


Kiss Me With Sun-Dried Lips

by Shatteeran



Series: Say It With Mini Cacti! [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Eve, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, If You Like This Sort of Thing, M/M, Protective Liam Dunbar, Theo Raeken Needs a Hug, Theo Raeken-centric, third kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:54:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28455669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shatteeran/pseuds/Shatteeran
Summary: Theodore Karl Raeken was a stubborn young man, in the purest, that is to say, most annoying, sense of the word. Now, a warning for the eventual brave readers, who ventured into this sequel, foregoing the recommendation to first readLay Me Down In A Bed Of Thorns: you might remember that Theo had received, a month prior, a formal, yet peculiarly personalized, invitation to move in with Liam and his parents, when he’d found the guest bedroom littered with mini cacti, including the red-potted one, who would later fatedly be named: Alphactus II. This hard-earned peace could only be disturbed by the pounding fist of Jenna’s brother Richard, who, as our curtain rises, was found energetically knocking on the door.
Relationships: Liam Dunbar/Theo Raeken
Series: Say It With Mini Cacti! [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2084262
Comments: 12
Kudos: 22





	Kiss Me With Sun-Dried Lips

**Author's Note:**

> Lay Me Down In A Bed With Thorns: The long-awaited Christmas Sequel (or not).
> 
> As it is a sequel, I selflessly (*cough*) encourage you to read the first part before.  
> Seriously (*cough cough*), this story will prove particularly hard to appreciate without the context.
> 
> Now, onward!

Theodore Karl Raeken was a stubborn young man, in the purest, that is to say, most annoying, sense of the word. Not that hanging out with someone who is incapable of admitting when they are wrong doesn’t constitute a torture in and of itself, but nothing truly beats the maddening wall of demurral opposed by a person who is inextricably set in their own ways. Now, a warning for the eventual brave readers, who ventured into this sequel, foregoing the recommendation to first read _Lay Me Down In A Bed Of Thorns_ : though our purpose, today as most days, is to experience some form of catharsis while we bear witness to Theo’s struggling and pain, followed by Liam’s understanding and care, as the reliable recipe commends, we refuse to take the easy way out, and blame Theo for his character, for his survival, during what should have been his most tender years, had solely depended on this trait. After all, if more than one vision of the world had truly counted while Theo grew up, it had simply meant that the Dread Doctors were disagreeing on one obscure fact or another. Thus, Theo had become their carbon copy. Inflexible.

There wouldn’t be much of a story, there – in the past lie, after all, the past lies – if it hadn’t been what most people ominously call The Season, caps merrily intended. And if we’re going to recount these events, more or less as they happened, we might as well add to the context and state that this drama begins with Liam’s family ringing the doorbell at the Dunbar-Geyer(-Raeken) household, while Theo anxiously paced in his bedroom upstairs. You might remember that Theo had received, a month prior, a formal, yet peculiarly personalized, invitation to move in with Liam and his parents, when he’d found the guest bedroom littered with mini cacti, including the red-potted one, who would later fatedly be named: Alphactus II. It is also worth mentioning that, since then, Theo’s romantic relationship with Liam had been fully acknowledged, first by the individual himself, second by Liam’s parents, and last, albeit less enthusiastically, by his fellow Pack members. Of course, they hadn’t skipped joyfully to disappear into the sunset and to live their own supernatural version of happily ever after; it hadn’t been smooth sailing from that first kiss to the, somehow messier and slightly bloodier, second one. But they had settled into a comfortable, if not entirely healthy – because what could be when you lived so close from a rotting Nemeton? – routine.

This hard-earned peace could only be disturbed by the pounding fist of Jenna’s brother Richard, who, as our curtain rises, was found energetically knocking on the door. Now, Liam’s ‘Uncle Dick’, Theo could have dealt with for the duration of the Christmas Eve dinner. But there were also Richard’s college student of a son, Liam’s cousin Ruben, David’s mother, a force of nature they affectionately called ‘Ma Tamara, and his twin sisters, Ava and Vania, one of which – Theo kept on confusing their names – came bundled up with husband and toddlers in tow. To top it all, if Liam’s relatives weren’t enough, Dr Geyer had also thought appropriate to invite for dessert his esteemed colleague, a dedicated and competent nurse known as Melissa McCall, along with her son, a certain Alpha werewolf Theo had temporarily murdered, and her husband, a semi-retired hunter who wouldn’t mind too much skinning Theo’s hide alive. It was, as it would be for anyone, but this proved especially true for a stubborn Theo used to his independence, a lot of family and friends to endure.

Additionally, Theodore Raeken was equally shameless. For those who didn’t know him well, his behavior could be confused with pride. But a jailed boy who enjoins the only people he knows to aim at him, to fire at will, doesn’t care what others think of him. His confidence stems from his proven willingness to become a monster and do whatever monstrous things are necessary. Except, apparently, and here rolls in the foretold rip in Theo’s tapestry of Fate, when the deed somehow comprised being officially introduced to Liam’s extended family as Liam’s expandable boyfriend. Oh, true to his character, Theo was preserved from humiliation: regrets, he was familiar with; remorse, he was plagued with every night. No, his own embarrassment concerned him a lot less than Liam’s inevitable disappointment – though, to fully disclosure Theo’s emotional landscape, mild fear, especially of second-handed blame, might have been mixed in his reluctance. You see, we weighed in the differences between confidence and shamelessness, and in this particular instance, the distinction lied in the admitted, open, irrefutable truth that the only things Theo had to show for himself, in this world that he came back to, was a blue, potentially garish, truck, a litter of ill-named mini cacti, and a high body count. And Liam. But, taking into consideration the kinship of tonight’s guests with Theo’s lover, he unequivocally assumed that they wouldn’t be massively impressed by his claim. Theo simply wouldn’t belong.

Up until a month ago, it wouldn’t have troubled him. The risk wouldn’t even have factored into one of his schemes. And, after all, wasn’t being special – set apart in the most extraordinary circumstances – what Theo had always sought? And yet, with black, burbling, frozen water under Tara’s worn out, wooden bridge, Theo had let himself be captured by entrapping azure eyes, the wings of his independence pinned down by potted, gifted thorns, and the wildness of his nature framed in the Geyer-Dunbar photo album. In fewer words, he now belonged _a little_ , and the honorific status came with shackling expectations, a chain reaction of grocery shopping, weekly family dinners, and, to get back to his current predicament: dreaded Christmas gatherings.

Thirdly – and here’s to hoping against all hopes that the readers have been keeping count, Theo Raeken was a quick-learner. It shouldn’t surprise anyone who’s indulged into exploring his peculiar upbringing. Thus, most could easily, assuredly and correctly, mentions that Theo had taught himself to drive when he reached 13, as early as his height, along with his enhanced healing, had allowed him to reach the pedals, and to deal with the occasionally extremely painful consequences of his self-learning. It might be suitable, at this point, to reiterate a previous injunction: Theo’s life and experiences shouldn’t be taken as models; and should they be taken at all, we would advise to indulge only with extreme caution, and under the supervision of an informed adult.

Now that the etiquette has been swept out of the path of our story, we can safely resume the retelling of our protagonist’s childhood. For it was also widely known, or at least diffusedly understood, that Theo’s advanced knowledge in biology had been acquired as a means to a very specific end: staying alive. The same could be said about his practiced stealth and his pick-pocketing skills, his fluency in French and Romanian, or his combat and medical training. Perspicacious, or maybe wiser, people in Theo’s life also valued the chimera for his ability to instantly detect the vibe, and the repartition of power, as soon as he strutted into a room – remember, here, how he sometimes projects his resourcefulness as apparent vanity – thus conferring him free reign to accost, or rile up, the most useful prospect.

Nevertheless, all but few ignored that Theo’s efficient autodidacticism applied in earlier stages of his thought process as well: mainly, he knew how to pick his battles. Or, as Liam would have put it, some punches were worth throwing, some were worth deserving, and some were better lost to the ages. Now, picture the decorated house on a Christmas Eve. Recall to your nostrils the enticing smell of lukewarm gingerbread and roasting poultry in the festive air. Strain your ears and hear the distant call of the insistent doorbell. Wince as an overexcited Liam bound down the stairs to greet _Uncle Dick_. Basically, pace a minute in Theo’s shoes, as he conferred with Betactus and Omegactus, who were lazily working on their tans under the glare of the desk lamp. Would you have chosen this exact moment to bring up a nagging worry about how you’d fit in in the night’s proceedings?

Bless your heart if you ventured into answering positively: it either makes you stupidly brave, or smartly cunning; and, luckily, there’s a place, and love, for both of these traits in this tale. In truth, Liam wouldn’t have poorly reacted to Theo’s confession. At all. Anger wouldn’t have gotten the best of him. Misunderstandings wouldn’t have ensued. Hurtful words wouldn’t have been exchanged. Full disclaimer, it was never going to be one of those developments, which is a travesty in its own way, because I, for one, would have quite enjoyed it. However, the news would have saddened him, some, bothered him, lots, and he would have spent the entire evening trying – and failing – to coax Theo out of his shell, with sweet looks and soft touches, to get him to join the celebration of togetherness. Liam would have endeavored to ease Theo into his world, which, for all intents and purposes, meant that Liam would have pursued a barely accommodated plan for the evening. To express Theo’s conclusion bluntly, Liam would have listened, he would have processed, but he wouldn’t have understood.

And why would he? Why should his world suddenly revolve around a barely human creature, a reformed villain he had taken in once Hell had chewed him up and Earth had spit him out?

Finally, Theo was, if cacti can be pardoned the use of such a word, a bit of a prick. Not a living soul, or, for that matter, a dead one, who has crossed his path, would scramble to come up with examples to demonstrate this attribute. Liam himself frequently evocates and elaborates – rants – about it in affectionate, if not crude, terms. And, just as seamlessly, we could go over, at length, a few memorable highlights of Theo’s finer moments, but if you’ve read this far, astute companion, you don’t need to be convinced. You came for the aftermath. We’ll jump right to it, then. To the very second Theo, being stubborn, shameless and a quick learner, amongst one other thing, ignored the stony, reproachful stares of a Council regrouping Chimeractus, Kanimactus, and Cactsune, decisively cracked open his bedroom’s window, and, as we just did, jumped right out.

Let’s twist the knife into this plot, shall we?

Liam “Little Wolf” Dunbar was also a stubborn young man. He was, in fact, stubbornly far more stubborn than his boyfriend. Moreover, what he lacked in shamelessness and autodidacticism, he more than made up for with a total absence of self-awareness and a devil-may-care attitude. Bafflingly, the “devil” of our tale happened to care very much, and, as is well-known, more than once, ended up saving the werewolf’s life. And, for all his disdain toward polite, civilized conversation, Liam barked often, more out of fear and genuine concern than spite and deep-rooted hatred, but he rarely bit. At any rate, his determination pushed him to do things in his own unique way; Theo would call it ‘messy’, ‘rushed’, ‘amateurish’ – in fact, he had, on several occasions – but we’ll settle with ‘unplanned’.

Perhaps this subtlety best explains why the attentive readers could expect Theo’s discovery upon reaching his truck, while our protagonist couldn’t have been less prepared for the sight of Liam, cheerfully waving through the passenger’s window. It probably also provides some background information to decipher Liam’s jeering jiggle of the vehicle’s keys. Utterly good, as we indicated, but not always kind. In the spirit of complete transparency, we’ll divulge that Theo seriously considered turning around and speed-walking away. But, if his prickliness prompted him to flee – or, in his own words, retreat –, his other traits, which we preparatorily discussed, helped him revise an ill-conceived course of actions: it could only have resulted in undesirable outcomes. Theo climbed in the truck instead.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded, trying to derail Liam with a certifiably baseless accusation. We’ll admit it for him, after having spent so much of his time cuddling to his Little Wolf, he really should have known better.

“Not the best opening line, considering I could ask you the same thing,” Liam indeed replied with a saccharine smile.

The dialog could have escalated fast. Both young men were prime for it. The emotional roller coaster, from his family’s grouped arrival to his boyfriend’s untimely departure had severely confused Liam; Theo merely was his usual angsty self. They sat, alone, in the freezing interior of the car. The stars were aligning for an epic fight… until Theo spotted the tiniest Santa hat on his dashboard. Precisely, he noticed the cotton beanie, white tassel in tow, plucked on the top of Alphactus II, who was sulphurously posing in his matching red mini pot, on said dashboard. The tension instantly evaporated.

“What is _that_?” Theo breathed out, but his stunned expression had already raised all the questions floating through his mind for him. Liam eyed him critically. He procured a human-sized version of the garment and deftly slid it on Theo’s head. Again, readers, the behaviors depicted in this tale could endanger your life, should you try to reproduce them without precaution. As it is, Liam only managed to come out unscathed, because Theo’s puzzlement had temporarily canceled his fight-or-flight response. Also, because it was Liam. But, at this point of our observation, it might be worth speculating some form of interdependence between the two plausible causes, for Theo is, in fact often, dumbfounded around his boyfriend.

“You’re not going to let Alphactus II wear the hat on his own, are you?” Liam answered, softly, as another Christmas monstrosity blinked into existence in his hand, which he immediately proceeded to coif himself with, even going as far as adjusting the position of the tassel in the rearview mirror. Theo mutely followed his gaze, only to find Taractus and Raektus, evenly greeting him from the backseat, where Liam had secured them with a silver garland. He squinted, but the fake snow, which had been dusted over Raektus’s spikes didn’t vanish. A couple of plastic reindeers had been planted in the soil of Taractus’s pot and appeared to be keeping her company. Theo blinked.

We will not transcribe what Theo uttered next, primarily, to attempt to preserve a shred of his dignity, of course, but also because it would be incredibly difficult to translate on a written format. For the purpose of continuity, we will rely on creative freedom and work with the postulation that he perfectly worded his measured, albeit emotional, reaction.

“ _Would you be so inclined as to letting me know the meaning of this carefully-thought and craftily-executed display?_ ” Theo asked.

“Yup,” Liam said, tongue poking out of his mouth as he stuck the string of a Christmas tree ornament under the rising glass of the car window. Tough there seems to be very few hazards in this practice, we once more recommend vigilance, and at the very least, would like to explicitly address the reality that Christmas tree ornaments aren’t designed for cars, quite understandably with safety concerns in mind. We’ll allow it in this particular occasion, mercifully because the motor isn’t ignited. “This,” Liam started, with a vague gesture towards the curb, “is my house.”

Theo fixed him with a look. Oh, the sensational depictions of that face, precisely the one he was making in that very instant! There can never be enough renditions of this image. Each reader will figure it out to be purposefully neutral, openly sarcastic, slightly exasperated, teasingly patronizing, or helplessly fond, according to their own sensibilities. Since we already bid farewell to credibility in favor of artistic license anyways, I’ll envision Theo pairing his silence with an adoring expression.

“But my home,” Liam continued, oblivious to the mind-whirling effect of his choice of words, “can be wherever you are.”

Theo gasped. For his sake, we could – and surely should – have also redacted that information from our final draft, but aren’t we decently past this point?

“And I’ll bring the Christmas cheer wherever that is,” Liam affirmed. Another Christmas ornament jumped into view. Theo cleared his throat. More than once, but no one was really counting, seeing as Theo’s feelings had completely overwhelmed him. And Liam, in spite of his sudden, poised decorating skills, wasn’t faring much better. In fact, soon, he would stop avoiding Theo’s searching gaze. He would lose himself in his cloudy eyes. He would – finally – drop the tinsel, and, because Liam was quickly developing a liking to openness and wonder on Theo’s face, he would lean over the stick shift to capture Theo’s parted lips with his own. For now, he fiddled with the crinkling garland, stared at his shuffling feet and concluded: “I just want to spend Christmas with you.”

Unfortunately, Theodore Karl Raeken was a – decidedly annoyingly – stubborn young man. And he recovered better than he would have, say, a month prior.

“Alphactus II is hardly a Christmas tree.”

“About that,” Liam quipped, for luckily, he still bested Theo in that domain, “I thought we could go and get your Christmas gift now?”

“You didn’t buy me a gift, Little Wolf?” Theo wondered out loud, undecided about how he was supposed to feel about it: dejected, crushed or simply heartbroken.

“Your gift is a full-sized cactus. I just thought you’d want to pick it yourself!” Liam defended hotly. Obviously, Theo’s accusatory tone had chosen for him. The leather of the steering wheel cracked in his tightening fists. Theo could have responded in a myriad of ways: a thanks, for example, would have been appreciated, since apologies were prohibited. The eagerness of a true cactus enthusiast, to give another, was basically called for. Liam would have fairly accepted any token or gesture of Theo’s affection. Yet, we’ve implied before, that Theo’s silent omissions were usually more telling than his dramatic barbs. Readers have also inferred, accurately, that Theo’s newfound obsession with Cactaceae, hid a deeper, more fragile, significance.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for a full cactus just yet,” Theo mumbled. Liam covered his hand with his own.

“That’s okay,” he whispered comfortingly. “I’ll be here when you are.”

_Then_ , they kissed.

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I had a hard time getting back into the particular tone of voice of this story... right up until I realized that this was a Mary Alice Young situation all along, and that the POV had always been Alphactus's.


End file.
